


Cuckold

by RuckyStarnes (GracieForeth)



Series: Tony Stark One Shots [6]
Category: Iron Man (Comics), Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Miscarriage Mentioned, Swearing, mostly hurting tony for art, strictly 18+
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-10-24 08:09:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17700656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GracieForeth/pseuds/RuckyStarnes
Summary: After a miscarriage, Tony and Y/N’s marriage is strained, leading to Tony drinking and Y/N taking late hours at the office. One night, Tony finds out she isn’t at the off like she had said to him earlier, and was now hours past expected. When she arrives home, Tony looks at her phone to see if his suspicions were correct.





	Cuckold

**Author's Note:**

> There is a lot of hurt feelings going on here with some heavy adult themes. There is cheating and a brief mention of a miscarriage. This is angst at one of the ugliest points, so please, I beg you, tread with caution.

Tony looked at his phone, teeth worrying the inside of his cheek as his leg violently shook while he sat waiting. It was the third time this week that Y/N was late coming home from work, and being in New York, late was more than two hours. He knew she was done with work at five, and now it was almost a quarter to eleven. He had called her office, speaking with one of the security guards asking if she was still there. The answer? She left at four. Four. Seven hours ago. Her last text was at eleven, stating that her case was difficult, needing to work through the facts so she would be able to present to court in two days. Now he believed it was a bold face lie. Sure the last three months were hard, losing the baby at twenty weeks hurt them both. And he understood he wasn’t a peach during it, finding solace in bottles of Remy Martin, each one only lasting two days at best, but she avoided him like the plague, especially the last two weeks or so. 

FRIDAY alerted him that she had just entered the garage, making him jump with relief. He rushed towards the door that led to the garage, opening the door quickly to see her just exiting her car. She looked tired and like she had a rough night, if he believed her to be at the office all night. He didn’t go to her, being torn at how he felt. He felt relieved that she was home, safe, after hours of worry, but at the same time he was pissed. Pissed because when he called the office they said she wasn’t there, and when he asked her via text, she just said work.

“Oh, I’m so sorry I am extremely late,” Y/N sighed, walking towards him with her case and purse. She leaned in and kissed his cheek, the only physical contact she would allow him the last three months. Her words were dry as well, her apology rather empty. Not another word was said between the two as he followed her into the home, his eyes watching her every move.

“What happened to the your neck?” he asked cautiously, bile slowly rising into his throat. The dark red mark was peeking out from the collar of the blue blouse she wore was definitely not from an accident or even close to.

Y/N’s hand moved to her neck lightening fast and Tony could see her facial expression in the window.  That was clearly a quiet exclamation of ‘shit’. “Not sure,” she replied flatly and continued towards the stairs. “I’m gonna turn in. See you in the morning.” With that, she tossed her purse onto the counter along with her keys and phone and headed upstairs without another word. It frustrated Tony to no end. He had brought up divorce a few weeks ago, and she took it as that he was tired of her, but the late nights and odd things, like finding out she isn’t at work when she says she is, were starting to add up to a suspicion that he didn’t want confirmation to. He hadn’t touched his wife in months and she refused to say more than a dozen words at a time to him.

The pinging of his phone snapped him out of the dark thoughts he was having and reached for it off the counter, but there wasn’t a message for him, but the flashing blue light by Y/N’s purse gave him the answer. It only took him a few seconds to weigh the decision, snatching up her phone and swiped. She hadn’t put a password on it, so that meant he was overreacting on what he thought she was doing. Maybe she was volunteering or seeing a therapist and deciding to hit the gym afterwards as away to heal. He was ready to put the phone down when the notification’s small blurb caught his eye from a person labeled at JS.

_ Had fun tonight. Wish you could have stayed lon… _

Curiosity won out as he opened the message, face paling as he read the rest of the message and seeing the attachment of some man’s genitalia with a woman’s lips wrapped around it.

_ Had fun tonight. Wish you could have stayed longer. Never met a girl who looked both beautiful and whorish with a cock in her mouth. See you at lunch. Wear those blue lace panties I like. _

“Tony, did I leave my phone down here?” Y/N called as he rounded the corner of the hallway, stopping dead in her tracks when she saw him with the object of question in his hand. “What are you doing?” she seethed, stalking up to him to grab her phone, making him pull his hand away from her, hurt written all over his face.

“Why?” he asked, pain dripping from the word, the look of a kicked puppy washed over his face.

“Gimme my phone Anthony,” Y/N demanded, reaching for the device again, but Tony grabbed her wrist, turning the screen around to show her the message, well, more the attachment.

“I am going to ask one more time, Y/N,” he forced out, “Why? Why is there a fucking guy sending you this fucking message with what looks like your fucking mouth around his fucking cock?” 

“I don’t have to explain anything to you, you drunk ass,” she spat, “Johnny knew how miserable I was after we lost the baby. He wasn’t the one drowning his fucking sorrows in bottle after bottle of fucking expensive liquor. You forgot that I was the one carrying our child, the one that had to go through the shit procedure without you because you were too drunk to be there. He was considerate when you weren’t.”

“I didn’t think caring and consideration involved shoving my fucking cock down your throat to make you feel better,” he replied with anguish. He handed her the phone to her, not letting her wrist go. “I want you out of here in an hour, understand? Take your whorish self and go. You’ll hear from my lawyer tomorrow.”

“Where am I supposed to go, Tony,” she replied, actual fear etching across her face.

“This Johnny guy seemed keen on keeping you longer tonight. Why don’t you head over to his place. Suck his cock some more, choke on it. Whatever. You’re down to fifty seven minutes now.”

“Tony…”

“No!” he screamed, throwing her arm away from him and stepping back. “You fucked up Y/N. Should have taken the divorce offer I made weeks ago. Could have gotten some money, but you forgot the prenup. Cheating gets you nothing. Now, get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. My. House.”


End file.
